Working for a Boutique - Part 11

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Julia’s forward – This is another part from Urban’s original story, just some slight editing was performed, and of course, I added a few new paragraphs.

I finished cleaning my little suite.  I vacuumed and changed the towels and bed linens. I had just finished a turkey sub when the phone rang. My caller ID told me it was JENCO STUDIOS calling back. I had forgotten that caller ID works both ways.

I picked up the receiver and said, "Hello."

"Hi. Is this Danielle LaRue?" the woman asked in a very soft voice.

“Speaking," I replied.

"This is Jenny Conte. I saw your name on my caller ID. What can I do for you?"

"Well, I got your card at the convention center some time ago, but I've been quite busy. Things have been slow at work recently, though. I found your card as I was going through my desk drawer, and I thought I would give you a call," I answered.

"I see you are in Iowa. I haven't been there since the formal apparel show at the convention center.”

“I got your card with some freebies the models are given after the show."

"Ok, I remember. You were one of the models."

“Yes, that’s correct.”

"Have you done any other work like this?"

I thought it was better to answer honestly. "Yes. I was in the store's first window display and also worked for Lisa Newman here in town."

"I see. I like the way you handled yourself. I may have something coming up in the near future. Are you able to come to Rochester for several days?"

"Yes, I can. However, the middle of the week is better for me with my current work schedule at the store."

"OK, that works out better for me too. I'll be in touch within a week or so. Thanks."

I hung up the phone and marked my calendar two weeks in advance to see if she would call.

If I spent three days of the week there, I could make as much as a couple weeks stocking shelves and scrubbing toilets.

The next evening, while I was sitting having dinner with Ms. LaRue, I brought up the offer to work as a model in Rochester.  I explained to her that I was really considering a career working as a model in the fashion industry since I keep getting better at it and gaining more experience.

Ms. LaRue thought about it for a second, smiled, and said, “Well, as long as you remember to do as you’re told, and you don’t act like a Prima Donna, you should be fine.”

I told her that it was going to be in a couple of weeks during the middle of the week, so I would be staying in Rochester for those nights.

The grand opening at Rochester was almost over when Jenny called me on a Saturday night.

"Can you come here for a shoot Wednesday and Thursday this week?" "Yes, I can," I answered right away.

"Good. Here's a number for a motel about two miles from my studio." I jotted the number down.

"Be at the studio at 8 AM. You get fifty dollars per hour and expenses. See you on Wednesday."

I hung up the phone. I was quite surprised to hear from her.  I was wondering if she would call me back.  In any event, I couldn't lose much by going up there to work.

Tuesday, I packed a few things in a small bag and drove up to Rochester. I found my motel, checked in, and called JENCO. I got the answering machine and left a message that I was in town and would be in at eight the next morning. I watched some TV and, after supper, took my usual soak and shave.

I was tired from the drive and went to bed early.

The next morning, I shaved my face again and drove to the studio. I parked in the rear of an office building and walked inside. After locating the suite number on the register, I went downstairs where the studio was located. I walked inside and stood at the counter.

There was no one in the front office, but I could hear voices in the back. Several minutes went by, and a short brunette walked in with a cup of coffee in her hand. She smiled and walked over to me, extending her right hand. "Hi, I'm Jenny."

"Danielle LaRue," I said as we shook hands.

"Come into my office, and we'll get started."

I walked around the counter and followed her into the office.

"Please have a seat."

I took the seat opposite of her. She looked me over.

"You have excellent features. I can see why there was so much buzz about you in the audience."

"I just did what they told me to do," I answered.

“That's not the story I got. You got a little carried away there, and while the audience was pleased, your employers weren't too thrilled."

"They seemed to be OK with the sales orders that came in following the show," I countered.

Jenny smiled. "Yes, they were. That's why I asked you here. I have a job for you, but there won't be any time for games. Are you willing to do as you are told?"

"Yes. I can do a good job for you. Your offer was very generous." She smiled again as she got up. "Good. Let's go to work, follow me." I got up and walked behind her to the studio.

"This is Barb. She will be assisting us today."

I smiled as a stocky black-haired woman in a purple football jersey and jeans walked up to me and shook my hand.

"I am pleased to meet you, Danielle. In the dressing room, you will find what you need.

For your make-up, use blusher and lipstick only."

I nodded and walked inside the dressing room. There was a toilet, sink, and a lighted mirror on a small table with some make-up items as well as a brown wig on its foam head. On a stuffed chair next to the vanity, I found a white body briefer with foam breasts already in the cups and a pair of white pantyhose.

I undressed, put the items on, and made up my face. I put on the wig cap and wig, then walked out to the studio floor.

Barb adjusted the briefer straps and handed me a full-length white slip. I put on the slip as she stood back and looked me over.

"You look fine," she said.

She tightened the slip straps slightly, took a uniform off the rack, and unzipped it. I put the white nurse's dress on, and she zipped me up. Then, after pinning a nurse's cap to the top of the wig, she pulled the dress a little tighter and secured it in the back with clothespins.

"This will make the dress look more tailored," she explained. "Now, put those shoes on and get in front of the camera."

The white sneakers were a little small, but I managed to squeeze into them. Next, I walked to the makeshift platform and faced Jenny. She looked through the camera and began taking pictures. After taking several shots, she motioned me to change poses, and I followed her instructions.

"OK. Change uniforms."

I modeled several different dresses, then I removed my slip and modeled several pantsuit uniforms before we finished.

"Very good, Danielle; change from white to sheer pantyhose and take off the nurse's cap.

I took off the last pantsuit, and Barb placed it on the rack. Then she wheeled the rack to the corner of the room. I went into the dressing room and changed. When I came back out, I took a seat as Barb and Jenny began setting things up for the next shot.

"These next shots are uniforms for a private school."

Barb handed me a frilly white blouse. I put the blouse on and buttoned it. Next, she handed me a plaid skirt. While I put it on, she removed a dark blue blazer from the rack.

"Try this on for size," said Barb.

The blazer was a little small, so I took it off, and she got another one off the rack, which fit close enough. The ensemble's last item was a pair of black leather pumps with two-inch heels. They didn't fit quite right but were good enough to be photographed in. I followed Jenny's instructions and stood in several different poses. When she was finished, Jenny waved me off again.

"Done!" she said.

I walked over to Barb, kicked off the shoes, and undressed.

"What's next?" I asked as Barb hung the blouse, jacket, and skirt on the rack.

"A break!" said Jenny as she handed me a fuzzy pink bathrobe. "Have a seat in your dressing room while Barb and I set up the backdrop for the next shot. We'll call you when we are ready."

I went back to my little room and sat down at the vanity. The reflection in the mirror said it all. I certainly did make a pretty girl. I couldn't help but think of what money I could be making if I ever got to a real runway or photoshoot. As I gazed at my feminine image in the mirror, I thought about all the things I could buy. It would be like winning the lottery. My financial fantasies came to a halt as Barb opened the door.

"Freshen your blusher and lipstick and come back out here."

I brushed some more powder over my cheeks and filled in my lips again with more lipstick. I walked over to the white backdrop, and Barb handed me a pair of ruffled pink panties.

"Give me your robe and slip these on. We're shooting only the panties, so just standstill."

After several shots, I changed panties seven more times, once for each color. The next eight panties were long-legged ones that reached about halfway to my knees. The last set of eight was full-length and went all the way to my ankles. The nylon tricot material had a soft and sensual feel. I'm sure it would have been better on my bare skin instead of wearing them over pantyhose and a foundation garment.

After slipping off the last pair, Barb handed me a large petticoat, and I stepped into it and pulled it up to my waist. These also came in many colors, and Jenny took two shots of each color as well. The last petticoat to be photographed was the white one.

"Leave that one on," said Jenny.

Barb then handed me a square dance dress, and I slipped it over my head. There were about a dozen of these, and Jenny took several shots of each style. Finally, we broke for lunch. Barb ordered some sandwiches as I undressed and got back into my pink fuzzy bathrobe.

"You're doing fine. We're a little ahead of schedule, so keep up the good work!"

We ate lunch and then got back to work. The afternoon's work consisted mostly of slacks and blouse combinations as well as pantsuits, all with low or flat heel shoes. None of the clothes were brand names, and most were polyester or blends.

About three, Jenny said we were done for the day, and I should be back at nine the next day to finish up.

I removed my wig, makeup, and lingerie. I dressed and checked myself in the mirror before walking to my car. I ate supper out, caught a movie, drove back to the motel, and turned in.

I checked out early that morning and got breakfast at a drive-through on my way to the studio. Jenny hadn't come in yet when I arrived. Barb was in the back setting things up as I headed for my dressing room.

"Put on your makeup and the lingerie I left for you. Jenny will be here shortly," she said.

I nodded, entered the dressing room, and closed the door.

I undressed and, after inserting the foam breasts, put on a black bra and panty set. A garter belt and seamed stockings were next. I did my makeup, put on a black wig, and walked back out to where Barb had a red satin sheet over the top of a small bed. Next to the bed was a pair of five-inch stiletto heel leather pumps.

"Put the pumps on and stand in front of the bed," said Barb.

I did so as Jenny came in and set her camera on the tripod. After changing several times to model each color, the next style was modeled; again, several shots for each color were taken. When the last shot was taken, Barb handed me a strapless flesh-colored bra.

"Wear this under the sleepwear sets."

I went back to the dressing room, put on the bra, and inserted the falsies. The sleepwear sets came in a variety of styles and colors. The feel of satin and chiffon on my bare skin never felt so good. The garments had no labels, but I am sure they were an expensive brand. Each peignoir and gown set had a matching hair ribbon that Barb pinned to the top of my wig. Jenny took the last shot just before noon. I put on my fuzzy pink bathrobe and scuffs, and we broke for lunch.

"We're ahead of schedule, and you're doing just fine," said Jenny.

I smiled and said, "As long as you're happy with the shot, that's all that matters, I mean, in addition to spelling my name correctly on the check."

The girls laughed as we sat down to eat our sandwiches.

After lunch, I freshened up my makeup, and we went back to work. I spent the first hour in a blouse and skirt, sitting at a table in front of a white backdrop. Barb took out about two dozen wigs in various colors and styles from their boxes. I put each one on, and Barb helped me adjust it, and then I was photographed.

The next hour was spent modeling a variety of hair bows, clasps, and pins with a few changes of wigs in between. The last hour I was in and out of raincoats, plastic boots, and rain hats, all of which came in a variety of colors and styles.

When the last shot was taken, Jenny said, "That's it."

I went back to the dressing room and removed my makeup and wig. I dressed back in my own clothes again and walked to the front office as Barb began packing things up for the various vendors. Jenny handed me a check. I checked the amount and signed the release.

"Thanks, Danielle, good job!" she said.

"Thank you too. I'm glad to get the work as well as the money!" I left the studio and drove back home to Iowa.

It was late when I got back, so I stopped to grab a burger and fries at a drive-through and went home. I was pretty proud of myself. I wondered if the events of the past year hadn’t happened to me, and I was still Danny if I would ever have considered being a fashion model.  I had to admit if there was this kind of money out there, then being a fashion model was going to be a great career choice.

Two days work here with Lisa or in Rochester with Jenny a couple of times a month, and my bank account would be flush with money in no time, and I would be able to save more for college if I could ever decide which school that would be.

After watching some TV, I became aware that I had begun to take more notice of the actors in the commercials and the stories. I watched the females see how they were dressed, the way their hair and makeup were done, and how they accessorized themselves. I was also more aware of the women in print ads in newspapers and magazines in a similar fashion.

When I was walking through a mall or working in the store, I seemed to be more and more drawn to observe the female customers and how they were dressed, made-up, and the way they behaved in their walk and other feminine mannerisms.

While at home, I continued to practice my walk and mannerisms periodically. I wore a pair of five-inch heel pumps I had purchased from an Internet site and a black skirt I had picked up at a garage sale. I read the makeup ads and became more familiar with the different products.

The school year ended.  I performed well in all of my exams and made the Honors list for my grades.  Like Danny, I was never really better than a B student, but this year, I was one of the top students in the school.   The week after exams ended, we had our High School Graduation Ceremony outside on a Saturday.  Ms. LaRue said she wouldn’t miss it for the world.  I was lined up with all the other Senior Students.  Beth Davidson was our Class Valedictorian, and she gave a great speech to us.  We then were called up to receive our diplomas and awards.  I received my Diploma and also an Honors award for my academic achievement.

The week afterward, I took my SAT exam.  I thought I did really well, and when I received my score, it was over 1500! I was overjoyed, but I still didn’t know when I would be applying to college.  I received letters of recommendation from all my teachers.

I was wondering if I was going to receive any scholarship offers from any colleges in the mail, but so far, there was nothing.

July began, and the summer was shaping up to be a warm one, so to protect my face, I stayed most of the time indoors and used the pool only in the evenings, as well as washing my face with cold cream instead of soap. The air conditioning, as well as the clothing, shoes, and paper or cardboard boxes, kept the store almost humidity-free; as a result, everyone used hand lotion frequently at work, and I used it at home too.

Ms. LaRue was true to her word, and I had been getting laser hair removal performed on me weekly in June, and I was now beardless and hairless on my entire body, except for a small triangle of pubic hair left above my privates.   I also had my eyebrows shaped by the laser too. She had made arrangements with a clinic in Chicago, and I would be flying out with her next week for the procedures.

We left for the airport early and got into Chicago by mid-morning. We rented a car and drove out to the clinic to check-in and talk to the doctors.  We went in for the pre-op consult, and the doctor who looked at me was amazed at how feminine I was already. He examined my face, hairline, and bone structure and told me I was one of the lucky trans girls, as there was no need to do anything to my face.  I didn’t have a large Adam’s apple; it wasn’t really noticeable.  All he would be doing is giving me C cup breast implants and would be performing SRS.  I was nervous, and he told me not to worry; they had performed hundreds of these surgeries, and if I was too anxious going into the operating room, they would give me a sedative to relax me.  I would be out under anesthesia for the entire procedure.  That afternoon I received the breast implants, and the second day I would get the SRS procedure and become a woman. Since my testicles were being removed as part of SRS, there would no longer be any need to take testosterone blockers, and I would be taking a maintenance dose of estradiol and progesterone for the rest of my life.

The first operation went well, and I was out of the clinic in no time. We went to the hotel and enjoyed a wonderful meal.  My chest felt a bit tight, but I really didn’t have much pain, though I was on painkillers. I had two large breasts on my chest now, although they were bandaged up.

The SRS operation would be performed in the hospital, as they used an operating room there.  That morning I woke up, walked over to the window to admire the view of Chicago.  We had room service bring us breakfast, and then it was time to leave for the hospital.

We parked at the hospital and went inside.  I checked in and received a private room where we dropped off my things.  I reported to the nurse at the operating room, and she had me change into a hospital gown. They brought over a gurney to my room, and I got on it.  Ms. LaRue wished me luck and gave me a kiss before they wheeled me into the operating room.   I was nervous but not overly anxious.  The anesthesiologist introduced himself as well as the team of doctors who would be performing my surgery.  He placed a mask over my face and told me to breathe normally and then started a drip and told me to count backward from 100.  I think I made it to 93.  Darkness fell over me like a curtain lowering down.

When I woke up, I was in a recovery room.  A nurse came by and asked me how I was.  I whispered water, and she gave me a small amount to wet my mouth.  I stayed there for a while, drifting in and out of consciousness, and then they wheeled me back to my room.   Ms. LaRue asked me how I was feeling, and I said very groggily. I rested for a while, and they told me they were going to keep me overnight to make sure I was fine.  Ms. LaRue stayed with me until visitors had to leave.  I slept overnight and was awake the next morning.  I really felt sore down there. I put my hand over the bandages, and there was no longer any bump; it was all smooth.  The nurse told me I would be staying another 3 days in the hospital in case there was any internal bleeding or blood clots.   Ms. LaRue came into the room and asked me how I was feeling.  I just said sore.  She told me she had the hotel booked for 2 weeks after I left the hospital, so I would stay in Chicago until then. Afterward, we would fly home, where I would recover for another 6 to 8 weeks.

On day 3, the doctor came in to see me.  He removed the bandages and said I was healing up quite nicely.  He gave Ms. LaRue a prescription for painkillers and told me I looked really good and there were no issues with either procedure.  I was bandaged back up and told they would be there until a week after the operation before I could remove them.

I was released from the hospital, and we drove back to the hotel. It was tough to walk, and the hotel had a wheelchair that they used to bring me up the room.  I stayed in bed for the first few days, eating a bit of room service here and there.  Ms. LaRue never left my side; she was with me the entire time.

After the first week was over, we returned to the clinic, where the doctor removed the bandages and all of the gauze pads that were inside my new vagina.  The nurse brought out a douche and cleaned it up nicely.

The nurse then brought out a set of implements known as dilators.  She showed me how to lubricate it and insert the smallest one into my vagina as far as it would go. It was painful, but I eventually was able to fully insert it. I had to repeat this procedure 3 times at day at first. This is the unglamorous part of SRS, but it was something that needed to be done.

They had a schedule for me to follow as to when I would start the next size and so on until I was using the largest one. This was something I would have to do for the rest of my life, or there was a good chance my vagina would close up.

Another week went by, and we went back to the clinic, and the doctor examined me.  My boobs looked great, and the small scars were already healing.  My vagina was healing quite well, and the stitches were all holding. The stitches wouldn’t have to be removed; they would dissolve naturally.  He told me I was doing great and I was able to go home, and he would like to see me back in his office in a couple of months.

We checked out of the hotel, went to the airport, and flew back home.  I spent the rest of July and all of August recovering from my surgeries.